


la peur du silence

by BadTimeChronicles



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, a writer incapacity to pick how to write the words fairy tale, alya aggressively plays fairy godmother, an obnoxious amount of fairy tale references, marinette "overcomplicates her life" dupain-cheng, me: tags all characters with speaking lines because idk how tags work, nino lowkey learning a whole language for adrien because he is a Good Bro, okay the princess tutu references are getting a little less sneaky, sneaky utena and princess tutu references, who tf made tikki and plagg into actual fairy godparents, yes this is that kind of fairytale [fingerguns]
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-08-21 21:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8260352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadTimeChronicles/pseuds/BadTimeChronicles
Summary: When Adrien Agreste is ten years old, his mother vanishes.So does his voice.(Miraculous Ladybug: a modern fairytale au with a lot of magic and fairytale references)





	1. parle moi

**Author's Note:**

> Adrien is mute. Chat Noir isn't. Magic's a mess like that.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prologue: adrien

When Adrien is ten years old, his mother vanishes. 

So does his voice.

\-----

He’s always liked fairytales, of course. Magic, adventure, _true love_ … what wasn’t there to like? It helped that his mother had spent countless hours like his very own Scheherazade, spinning tales of glamorous heroes defeating villains with wit, daring and just a little bit of magic, rescuing loved ones and freeing themselves of their chains. They always lived happily ever after, she’d tell him, and though he knows better now, there is still something inside of him drawn to such stories. He has always liked fairytales. 

Maybe therein lies the problem. 

\-----

When it becomes clear that his silence is not out of grief, Gabriel makes him see specialist after specialist over the following months.

Doctors, of course, all say the same thing. There is nothing physically wrong with Adrien; the trauma of losing his mother must be what’s keeping him from speech. He was there that day, wasn’t he? He doesn’t remember the events due to some psychological blockage, and that same block must be affecting his speech. 

And _this_ is how Adrien knows his father loves him: Gabriel takes one look at his son, shamefaced as he struggles to form even a single word, a single syllable, a single _sound_ , frustrated and embarrassed, and he does not believe a single one of them. 

\-----

His father does what he must. He hires someone to teach both Adrien and himself sign language, and he forces anyone working in the household to learn it, too, or be let go. Permanently. Gabriel Agreste is not known to be a patient man in the best of circumstances. 

While he’s learning, Adrien gets into the habit of carrying a notebook and pen on him, to write down anything he wants to say. His father notices and gets him a tablet with a stylus and a function that reads his handwriting and says it outloud if he so wishes. Adrien keeps it, but the robotic voice that comes out is all wrong, and the notebook is a lot easier to carry into a pocket as he goes, freeing his hands for signing. 

The silence might be oppressive, but it is at least his own.

\-----

Adrien has never been allowed outside. His new inability to produce noise doesn’t change that at all, only makes it worse. Outside, there are people, sounds, life. Here, he… 

He’d commented to his mother about the captive princesses. Of course he had. Locked away in a tower, Rapunzel let her hair grow until a prince had climbed to rescue her. This wasn’t exactly a viable option for him, but he’d joked back then. She’d simply pushed back his hair and kissed him on the forehead before saying that all good princesses had a hand in rescuing themselves. 

He hadn’t understood then, and he didn’t understand now, either. But he has lost his voice, and there is no one he can ask anymore. 

He signs what he sees outside his window to himself. 

Bird. Grass. Sky. People.

Freedom.

\-----

His father is both overprotective and distant at once, but he tries. He always looks at Adrien when they’re in the same room, to make sure he doesn’t miss anything he says. He gives him any material thing Adrien asks for. He gets him the best tutors for all his studies and makes sure Adrien can express himself in whatever way he wishes to. 

He is not perfect, of course. He continues to ask Adrien to model for him and makes Adrien accompany him to meetings with posh grown ups who titter in concern as they try to suck up to his father. No one says anything about him to his father’s face, though. _Once_ , a man had tried to joke about it. 

“It’s a blessing in disguise, surely,” the man had simpered, and Adrien had felt his father’s hand tighten dangerously on his shoulder. “After all, they do say children should be seen and not heard.”

In response, Gabriel had calmly destroyed the man’s life and career that same night. 

(Adrien hadn’t had time to process the comment then, but he thinks of it whenever he glimpses one of his modelling pictures on a magazine. Seen, not heard.)

So no, Adrien does not ask for what he truly wants. No matter what he’d told his mother all those years ago, he is no Rapunzel. No princess locked away by an evil stepmother or a witch. 

His father loves him. 

\-----

His resolve falters long enough for him to ask, haltingly, his fingers hesitating over the signs in a way he hasn’t in years, once. 

His father balks the way Adrien expected him to. After all, if Adrien is in danger or uncomfortable in any fashion, he has no way to truly express this. Facial expressions and hand gestures don’t carry much worth. He can’t call anyone, either. 

Adrien jokingly mentions a whistle. 

Gabriel looks tired and sad for a few precious seconds. 

He still says no.

\-----

Once the idea plants itself in his head, though, Adrien can’t get rid of it. How long has he dreamed of adventure, of excitement? How long has he wished for companionship? 

(How long has it been, since he’d been unable to voice any of his wants? How long will it be still?)

Sneaking behind his father’s back after everything he has done for Adrien feels like a betrayal. He texts as much to Chloé even as he enlists her help to sign up to public schooling. She tells him that the best cure for him is to spend time with peers his own age.

He stares at the phone for a long time without answering.

\-----

In fairytales, a small, innocuous act of kindness is often rewarded in interesting ways. 

That’s not why Adrien helps the old man up from the ground at all, but considering what happens afterwards, he is not above considering the possibility that the two are connected. 

\-----

Adrien’s favorite fairytale, as a child, was the story of _Puss in Boots_. The title character never failed to make him smile when he was down, and he’d always loved heroes solving quests by their cleverness alone. Above all, he liked cats.

When he sees Plagg for the first time, he thinks of _Puss_ first, even though his hands fumble to sign about a genie. Puss, after all, had been an ordinary cat, not tied to any object in particular despite his choice of outerwear. The cat floating in front of him obviously came from that box with the ring in it. 

It’s only after the cat quizzically tilts his head at his signs that Adrien feels his heart plummet. 

Most magic is verbal, Adrien knows. Some sort of contract. Voices are a big deal; the little mermaid had exchanged hers for temporary humanity. For the chance at love and happiness. (For, in the original darker tale, want of a _soul_.) Was the genie of the lamp bound by similar rules? Could written word be enough to count for a wish, or was Adrien locked away from magic because his voice had been traded away? 

It seems distinctly unfair. He doesn’t even remember what for. 

“I’ve never seen anyone go from excited to downtrodden so fast,” Plagg hums, flying closer to him. “I’ve met the genie of the lamp, he’s really not that interesting.”

Adrien doesn’t know why Plagg can understand sign language, but his heart nearly bursts as his hands move too fast for even himself to follow, question after question spilling from him like a dam. 

What Adrien learns is that the magic that binds Plagg is in the intent; so long as he can see Adrien sign the words, it’s as good as shouting them. Adrien signs them so fast he doesn’t hear the rest of the explanation. 

“ _Cool_ ,” Adrien says aloud, dressed all in black, magic coursing over him.

Then he realizes what he just did.

\-----

He’s giddy and excited about the prospect of being a hero, but the ability to make noise again is even more incredible than the rest of it. As Chat, Adrien hums and whistles, laughs and jokes and _talks_ and-- 

It’s amazing, bad guys to take down or not. 

He gets home not long before his time runs out, but the comment he goes to make about the stroke of midnight sticks in his throat when he’s back to normal. He makes it with shaking hands, instead. 

(The ladybug-themed girl who’d fought alongside him, his _partner_ , had looked quizzically at his hands a few times when he spoke. Signing as he spoke had come naturally to him, but to the untrained eye, he’d probably just looked a bit like a spazz.)

Plagg is more interested in being fed than explaining, but once that ordeal is done (and Adrien is, once again, reminded of Puss’s payments for his tasks) he comments idly that his magic probably counteracts Adrien’s curse. 

A curse.

The shuddering breath he takes might be silent, but Plagg still calls him weird for being _relieved_ at hearing that he’s been cursed.

\-----

When Adrien is ten, a witch takes his mother and steals his voice.

When he is nearly fifteen, he gains it back, but only so long as he stays under another magic spell while he attempts to take down another form of dark magic entirely.

Adrien has always liked fairy tales, but living one is a bit much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: wow let's write the prologue in adrien pov and then the rest of the fic in marinette's or gabriel's this is a great idea
> 
> also me: no it isn't
> 
> idk what i'm doing but the idea is to cram as many fairytale references as i can because adrien agreste is a #confirmed disney princess and marinette has all the awkward charm of disney princes anyway, might as well. also i am 100% allowed to have pretentious french titles because i am french, fight me? also also gabriel is KIND OF a better dad here than in canon because he has no choice but to try harder. sucks to be you, gab. now you gotta be halfway decent. because magic is Rude. 
> 
> but yea current amazing summary of the prologue: adrien can't make a sound. chat noir can make all the sounds. he overcompensates. a lot. who the fuck cursed the sunshine child, what the heck.


	2. on s'aime comme ça

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prologue: marinette

“There’s a lot of power in a name, Marinette,” Tikki tells her, just as sweet and earnest as usual. “That’s why you shouldn’t tell anyone who you are.” 

It’s not like Marinette is _opposed_ to keeping her identity as Ladybug a secret, but that’s not quite the answer she expected when she asked. Marinette herself wants to keep it a secret because she isn’t a hero, isn’t ready for grand adventures and can barely control the magic she’s been gifted. And yet, there’s something that halts her, in knowing that the cost of this magic is herself. 

She wonders, idly, if Chat knew about the power behind names. He’s never asked for hers, though she thinks he’s wanted to, a few times. 

But it doesn’t matter. Ladybug is Ladybug and Marinette is Marinette. If her name takes Ladybug away, then she’ll never tell a soul. Paris needs Ladybug. 

No one really needs Marinette.

\-----

The heroes of stories her parents told her are brave, dashing, clever, and most of all: they don’t fall flat on their faces every other day. 

When Marinette was young, she’d climbed a tree to rescue a cat. She and the cat had fallen down once she’d grabbed it off the branch. In the fall she’d lost a tooth and ripped her dress, but the cat wasn’t injured. Her parents took a picture after they made sure she was alright. Her hair is askew with dirt and leaves but she’s grinning brightly in spite of the pain.

There are loads of stories like these her parents could tell, if only she’d ask. But Marinette doesn’t ask. She’s not a hero, as far as she can tell.

She can’t even stand up to Chloé half the time, never mind a dragon.

(The cat, incidentally, was black. Magic likes to think it’s clever.)

\-----

She asks Chat about name magic, the next time she sees him. He spouts off something about Rumplestiltskin, and spinning hay into gold? He’s launching into a tale and making references she misses as she stares at his hands as he speaks. It’s easy to miss in battle, when he’s got hold of his weapon or has his hands full of magic, but like this, sitting together on a roof after they’ve broken a curse on a victim without needing to use up all their magic, she can see the gestures he makes for what they are: a language. 

Chat Noir notices her stare and falters, and she has to blink away the surprise when he sits on one hand and scratches the back of his neck sheepishly with the other. Before she can think better of it, she grabs his hand and holds it between both of her own. She can feel his magic react to hers, mingling and creating a spark that warms her up. She ignores it.

“Sorry, kitty, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. But… that’s sign language, isn’t it?” Ladybug asks him. His pupils are like pinpricks in his wide eyes, his mouth gaping open as he stares at their joint hands. She squeezes his to help him snap out of it. He snaps back to look at her with a helpless grin.

(She doesn’t blame him-- the magic feels nice, and she knows Chat is attracted to it like a moth to a flame. It’s like he feels it in a way she just... _can’t_ , which is why he’s gotten cursed on her behalf before. She tries to be more careful since, to get him out of the way faster-- he’s never said, but being cursed must feel awful. Their magic is so good, anything opposite of it… It’s called a curse for a reason.) 

“Yes,” Chat answers her finally, freeing his other hand so he can lift both of hers to his lips. She lets him kiss her hands in apology and hopes it stands for her own, for making him so self-conscious. He lets go and she lets out a breath as she mourns the connection, a little. He places his hands in his lap. “I… Someone close to me only speaks sign language, so, it’s second nature to use both by now.”

Ladybug bites down on her lip. “Could you teach me?” 

Chat Noir’s face breaks out into a beaming smile.

(There’s magic in that, too.)

\-----

Her request to Chat isn’t selfless. The fact is, Marinette messed up when she first met Adrien. 

Well, she messes up every time she talks to him or even so much as looks in his general direction, so singling out their first meeting might seem silly. It’s just… Those other times, she’d only embarrassed herself. She isn’t sure, but she thinks that first time, she really hurt him.

So: she messed up. It was a misunderstanding and Adrien explained himself, and she knows he doesn't hold it against her. She holds it against herself in his stead. She wants to make it up to him. 

Learning to be able to understand when he speaks seems to be a good start.

\-----

It went like this: the second day of class, much like the first, Marinette had been late and bringing in sweets from her parent’s bakery. On the way in, she’d tripped on something, which she’d thought was just her luck… until she’d heard Chloé’s tittering laughter. She’d looked back and seen a bag in the doorway, nothing like anything her bully ever used but obviously placed there to trip any newcomers. When she’d looked back, there was a new face in front of her, eyes wide as he quickly gestured at her and the mess she’d made. There’d been icing everywhere and her face had burned as she snapped: “what?”. 

Chloé had stepped behind the boy, draping herself over him. (Marinette knows, now, that she had been holding him in place as she did so, stopping Adrien from moving to help her or reach for his notebook to explain.) She’d said, her lips pulled into a smug smile: 

“You should watch whose stuff you trip over, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Adrien’s bag is probably more expensive than your entire family’s budget in a year.”

She’d missed the look of shock Adrien gave his childhood friend, too busy seething as she picked herself up, Alya rushing over to help her and telling her they should get her cleaned up. Spurred on by her new friend’s presence, she’d snapped back as they left:

“I’m glad you found a friend just as _awful_ as yourself, Chloé. You can be petty bullies together.”

Her back was turned to them both as she left class, and that was that. Even if Adrien had attempted to explain himself then, she wouldn’t have seen it.

She’d jumped to conclusions and ignored him the rest of the day, deliberately not looking towards him. She hadn’t even thought anything of it when he’d answered roll call with a shy raise of his hand instead of saying a word. 

Really, looking back, she’d been the one who was awful, hadn’t she?

\-----

One day, Nino will show her a ripped notebook page. He will tell her, soft and unsure, that it’s the first thing Adrien ever wrote him, when he’d asked him why he hadn’t just told Marinette the truth. 

It will read, simply: _I can’t_.

(Magic is as magic does, but she will still ask Tikki, voice choked up in feelings she won’t be able to parse through, if that small slip will be enough. Tikki, who is more fae than fairy godmother but likes the latter title better, will hum the leftover trace of magic on the paper and say that it'll do.)

But that hasn’t happened yet.

\-----

Marinette’s favorite fairy tale, if pressed to answer, is Cinderella. It’s a simple, easy answer, and Marinette _does_ like the tale. The girl makes her own dress, meets a fairy godmother who understands her plight and lets her go to the ball, she meets her prince charming… It’s a classic. And, besides, Cinderella’s magic is gifted and she turns back into herself at the end of the night. Marinette can appreciate the similarities in secret.

When Ladybug is asked the same question by Chat, she winks at him and says “this one, of course”, because she likes the way his faces flushes dark and his magic thrills when she says it. His tail swishing in excitement even as he tries to play it off with a dramatic bow as he calls himself her faithful companion in her quest is a nice bonus, too. 

Her wings flutter a bit as she tries to hold in a laugh. 

(When Tikki asks her what the real answer is, the Marinette who is Ladybug stops what she’s doing and stares at the ceiling of her bedroom, spinning in her chair. She is silent for a long time.

“I don’t know,” she answers, wistful. “They’re all very sad, aren’t they?”)

\-----

In fairytales, love can be simple as much as it can be complicated. The prince doesn’t love the mermaid back, or the princess has to prove herself by sleeping on a pea hidden beneath twelve mattresses, or someone has to kiss a frog. It’s messy, and in the rare cases of love at first sight, it is never as straightforward as that. 

Cinderella’s coach turns back into a pumpkin. Snow White dies. Sleeping Beauty sleeps for a hundred years. The little mermaid, worst of all, turns to foam, never to live again.

Magic has a _cost_ , and what is love but the strongest form of magic? 

So of course Ladybug loves Chat Noir. Their magic is their own and yet half of the other’s. It’s a powerful connection. But Marinette, plain old Marinette, isn’t magic. The magic isn’t her own and, some day, when her tale is over, Ladybug will vanish in a speck of light with only Marinette left behind, and Chat Noir will go with her.

Is he a boy? A cat taken human form? She doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter. Their magic has a time limit, and so does their love. They exist in fragments of a story that won’t end happily ever after, and if heartbreak is the cost of loving the catboy with her, of sharing time with him in between glimpses of curse breaking and princess rescuing, well.

Love has had far worst costs in stories. 

\-----

Ladybug loves Chat Noir and Marinette loves Adrien. 

Her heart is a treacherous thing, but it isn’t the same kind of love at all. If Marinette must be Cinderella, then Adrien is her Prince Charming, except it’s nothing like that at all. Marinette is a normal girl with a normal teenage crush on boy with a heart even more beautiful than his face. He is kind and so, _so_ sad, and sometimes she wishes trauma was like a fairytale curse; that she could give him true love’s kiss and her name would be the first thing he says after she breaks the spell over him before they live happily ever after. ...But Adrien hasn’t been cursed by the evil plaguing Paris recently. His voice was lost ages ago. Marinette isn’t magic, and neither is he.

If Chat is her tragic fairy tale love, then Adrien is who she wants to make happy her whole life. A fairytale love and a regular love. 

Ladybug loves Chat Noir and Marinette loves Adrien. 

It’s as simple and as complicated as that.

\-----

It’d been raining, the next morning, and he’d given her a handkerchief (a _handkerchief_ , of all ridiculous things) to wipe her face with when he noticed she’d been staring moodily at her ruined makeup in a mirror. She’d looked at it like one might look at someone offering them a rattlesnake, but she’d taken it at the earnest feeling in his eyes. She hadn’t made a move to use it, though. He’d signed something to her and the look of bafflement (and realization, not that he knew _that_ part) she’d given him had made him scramble for his notebook. 

Marinette doesn’t know why, but that day had been the only time she’s ever seen him without his notebook on his person. She’s grateful, though, because upon finding it missing he’d bitten his lip in distress, and gestured towards her empty hand. He’d held out his own with such a raw hopeful gaze that she hadn’t thought anything of it as she’d placed her hand in his. He’d held it palm up delicately, and his finger had traced letters into her hand so slowly and softly that she almost hadn’t understood what he was doing at first.

_S O R R Y_

He’d looked up at her with his head still tilted down towards her hand, looking through his fringe and his lashes as he smiled crookedly. She’d felt her cheeks flush and her heart skip a beat.

“We, ah, um, we should get you a, a penbook-- a notepen, a--” she’d stuttered as his shy, apologetic smile turned curious, and had to clear her throat to continue. “Some...something to write in. That’s what I meant. It… it sounds like you have a lot to say? Or, that is, that we have a lot to talk about? Maybe?”

His smile had turned brilliant and her brain had already turned to mush when he continued to write on her hand.

_T H A N K Y O U_

Marinette might not be magic, but she swears when he touched her, she felt something close to it.

She still has his handkerchief.

\-----

Marinette is not Cinderella. She has a good life, two loving parents, and no need for a fairy godmother. She tells Tikki as much when she meets her.

“You don’t have to be the princess,” Tikki had said, misunderstanding her objections. “You can be the prince that rescues them instead.” 

Marinette, who had once read that all girls who aren't princesses are doomed to become witches, had smiled tightly. She isn’t a prince, either. 

But she’d be lying if she said she had never wanted to be a hero, in spite of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [considers adding a tag for marinette "overcomplicates her life and is wrong all the time" dupain-cheng]
> 
> subtle worldbuilding is hard. i'm trying not to just dump all the differences between regular miraculous and this au in one giant infodump... but listen i never said they were superheroes [clasps hands] what do they look like. what do they do. what does papillon do. it's a mystery!!! instead all you get is vague hints at worldbuilding and plot to make this seem more fairy taleish. my life is a spiralling abyss?
> 
> chloe already talks over adrien when the poor kid can talk so mute!adrien is just "help me". save him?? also, i'm sorry for the utena and tutu references. i couldn't help myself. 
> 
> THANKS FOR ALL THE KUDOS AND COMMENTS BTW hahaha i never write for active fandoms and seeing more than one was like "what. where am i". 
> 
> ps: i guess i should mention titles so: "la peur du silence" means the fear of silence and it comes from a song about someone losing their mother, because i'm clever. (no.) "on s'aime comme ça" means "we love each other like this", it comes from the song "La Seine et Moi" from un monstre a paris. it's a cute movie and the song is catchy, but the important thing is the translation of the full line is "i don't know why we love each other like this". and chapter one was titled parle moi because that means talk to me anD I THINK I'M FUNNY
> 
> these notes are longer than the fucking chapter my bad... my b....


	3. pauvres âmes en perdition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prologue: gabriel

Happily ever after isn’t supposed to _stop_. 

Gabriel might not have known stories like his wife did, but that much he knew. 

That’s why he’ll do whatever it takes to bring back what once was his.

\-----

The day his wife vanished, Gabriel was at work. 

There was no call from the police, no meeting interrupted by his secretary. In fact, for the most part, it was a completely ordinary day for him. She had kissed him goodbye before he left, and the memory of that last chaste touch of her lips will haunt him. It won’t haunt him nearly as much as the moment he realized something was wrong, the only reason he left work early that day: a single phone call on his personal cell, from home. 

“Adele?” he’d answered, confused. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” 

His only answer had been silence. His grip on the phone had tightened. 

“Adele? Are you there?”

There _was_ noise in the background. It was faint, and he could barely pick it up, but it sounded like breathing. Or… more accurately, someone _attempting_ to breathe. Soft, helpless gasps. 

“ _Adrien_?”

When asked, Gabriel told the officer that he didn’t remember rushing home past that point. He can’t remember what he said or did or how he got there; all he remembers is finding his son alone in the mansion, helplessly cradling a phone with tears in his eyes. Adrien’s mouth had formed words when he saw him, but no sound had come out. 

No one else was there.

\-----

Gabriel hadn’t believed in magic before this. Not really. 

There’s probably an irony in that, since once magic takes everything from him, he pours all of himself into learning everything he can about it. His wife’s books, first, scouring through all of her possessions for a hint, a sign, _anything_. When that fails, he expands his search outward, so much so that he can’t remember a time where he didn’t have all this knowledge, all these spells, artefacts and books in a secret locked room of his house. 

(He has the only key. It is small, golden and enchanted to his person. He is no Bluebeard; he will not chance his son’s curiosity when the boy has already suffered the touch of magic. His secret might not be nearly as dark, but it’s far more dangerous.)

For the most part, his research is as discouraging as it is fruitless. He doesn’t know the exact circumstances behind his wife’s disappearance, and if Adrien knows, he cannot say. This leaves him scrambling to recall any detail that might help. Had he spurned someone that day? (Yes, of course. It’s practically part of his job description. But not a stranger: there was no old woman begging for food or shelter, only disgruntled employees who still work for him to this day.) Had _Adele_? (Impossible. Adele was-- she _is_ far too good a person to fail such a basic magical test of character.) Had a fairy been jealous of his wife’s beauty? (Possible, but then why steal Adrien’s voice? Why vanish her entirely? The “crime” didn’t fit the punishment.) Had she perhaps made a deal with a witch to help Adrien’s birth? (Unlikely, and even if that was true, they’d have taken his son, not his wife.) What caused this?

He doesn’t _know_.

But Gabriel is shrewd and desperate, so he learns. 

He has no other choice.

\-----

He adds the physical protection to the household first. State of the art security system, above and beyond what an ordinary family would ever need. Then, Gabriel adds the magic: protective spells, “decorative” flowers (primroses and marigolds and hollies with berries-- the local florists are baffled), iron around Adrien’s windows (more than that would be… excessive), salt circles. If there’s something he can think of that will make the house (his _son_ ) safer, he does it. 

It’s too little too late, but it’s better than nothing.

\-----

He knows before he gets Nooroo that one fairy’s blessing cannot undo another fairy’s curse. That’s not how magic works. There are rules, bizarre though they might seem. While all curses have a way to break them, the specifics of how being lost to him leaves him with no other real choice. 

“My magic makes it so that I can give a blessing to whomever you wish,” Nooroo explains, his brooch in Gabriel’s hand. The small fairy looks deceivingly like a butterfly. Is all magic so deceptive? “There are limits, of course, but…” 

“What about curses?” Gabriel interrupts. 

Nooroo’s gasp is nearly inaudible, but Gabriel has learned to pay attention to silence.

\-----

Was Adele magic?

It’s a question he has to ask himself.

With Nooroo’s brooch in his possession, the borrowed magic his to command, he has a sense for it now. He’d hoped it could help him find the ladybug and the black cat faster, but the number of people touched by magic in Paris is far higher than he expected. Magic is _everywhere_ , and it only gets worse once he starts giving out curses. It doesn’t matter. The fairies’ magic makes the trace exponentially bigger when they’re active. It’s a question of time before he can get his hands on the objects housing them. 

Whether Adele was magic or not is… hard to decipher. The touch of magic on Adrien _is_ in worrying quantity, but for all Gabriel knows the thing he’s sensing is the curse upon him. The house is brimming with magic with all Gabriel has done to it, and Adele’s fascination with fairytales and her possession of some spelled items doesn’t prove anything. Gabriel himself isn’t magic and he has in his possession more artefacts than could ever be necessary for one person to hold. 

She was beautiful, in a manner that might’ve been fairy-gifted. Their son shares that, and Gabriel greedily makes him model in the hopes of capturing their perfection on film in a way he never could with her. But that’s no proof that she was anything more than a human. 

It’s one more thing Gabriel doesn’t know.

\-----

What he does know is this: magic calls magic. 

If you curse a princess, a prince will inevitably come to her rescue. He will be aided, of course, by magic. He has to have a way to break the curse, after all. So what if you were to curse an entire city? Surely, the power it would take to break that would be strong. Strong enough, perhaps, for what Gabriel needs. For his one and only wish.

There are seven magical objects scattered around around the world. Seven fairies gifted each of them with their powers and bound themselves to one. Because of it, they are closer to djinns than they are faes. Once awakened, they have no choice but to obey whoever holds the object and grant them all their magic.

He needs all seven. He already has two: one active, one dormant. 

There are two more active in Paris, reacting to the call of his spells in the city. Once he has those, the other three will follow. 

It’s only a matter of time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rule of three ends our prologue with our three main roles: damsel in distress, hero and villain. (...sorry, adrien.) (i'm mostly kidding.)
> 
> this one is more plot... and also i said gabriel was a marginally better father not a better person?? hence. papillon. anyway: gabriel learns magic, doesn't bother learning stories enough to realize the bad guys never wins. like a true fairytale villain, he's a dumbass. 
> 
> it'll be less specific pov from now on and also a bit more streamlined as Actual Developments Occur. also Alya and Nino will get real speaking lines... & i couldn't think of a name for mrs agreste so i lowkey subscribed to the idea that she has the same name as the painting because i am not naming her a version of gretel idc about that fairytale trope?? honestly if i was being honest to fairytales i would never have named her they have so many nameless characters... but also gabriel answering the phone with "Hello, Wife?" is not an actual possibility. alas. 
> 
> i'm sure i had an actual thing to say here that wasn't #shitposting but whatever it's 5am and i hate myself
> 
> (the title this time is just the french title for poor unfortunate souls. i'm not. funny.)


	4. le haricot magique

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter one: jack & the beanstalk, or: Ladybug and Chat Noir are characters in stories. Marinette and Adrien... aren't, technically.

_Once upon a time, there was a family who fell to misfortune._

_The father, who had worked his entire life, perished suddenly. Grief-stricken, his wife fell ill, unable to care for her family. The eldest child tried to bring food and money to the household, but despite her best effort, she could not make up the loss of both their parents. If things continued as they were, she told her younger sibling in a moment of weakness, they might be separated, and never see their mother again. The younger child ran out at that admission._

_They had planted a tree next to their father’s grave, and there he hid, crying tears of sorrow. What had his family done to deserve such hardships? He cried._

_A shadow heard his plight._

_“I will give you something, so that you can save your family,” it told the child. With a flap of its wings, it presented the young boy with innocuous looking beans. “If you plant these here, you will have access to everything your family could ever need, forever.”_

_The child could not believe their ears. Grateful, they asked the shadow what they could ever do to repay it._

_“All I ask for in return is this…”_

\-----

“Ten minutes early,” Alya says when Marinette literally _drops_ into her seat that morning. “Now you know I gotta ask: who are you and what have you done with my girl?”

Marinette, face firmly planted onto the desk, waves her off with a groan. “Alyaaaaaaa,” she whines, “please don’t joke. I had to set seven alarms to get up on time today.” 

Her friend, pitiless, laughs at her plight. Marinette barely has time to lift her head up to sulk at her before Alya points to the seat in front of them with a sly grin. “Well, at least you’re not the only one here early today. Hey, Adrien.” 

Marinette squeaks and sits up so fast she nearly falls off the bench. Adrien turns towards them once he’s seated, waving slightly and smiling. Marinette manages not to die from the sight, but it’s a near thing. She’s dumbly waving back long after he’s turned around to talk with Nino, an affair that takes less and less paper every day. She’s glad Nino is a faster study than she is, she thinks fondly, a warmth spreading through her chest. She is still waving.

Alya grabs her hand and forcefully puts it down. “You’re killing me,” she says, though her voice is more amused than exasperated. Luckily for Marinette, she doesn’t add anything else on the Adrien subject, probably because of his proximity. Instead, she switches topic: “Did you see what happened yesterday? I managed to livestream a huge chunk of the battle from as close as I could get, and then at the end Ladybug showed up to talk to me! It was _amazing_.”

“No way, that’s great! What did she tell you?” Marinette asks. Alya’s expression turns sheepish and Marinette has to hide a smirk. She knows what she told her, after all.

“That I shouldn’t be hanging out so close while her and Chat are doing their thing,” she admits with a shrug. “But she also said she’d read my latest article and was looking forward to the next one, so it was _totally_ worth it! I spent all night writing up the newest one just for that!” 

Marinette reconsiders her stance on telling Alya _anything_ positive while she’s Lady Luck. It’s her turn to send an exasperated look to her best friend, but whatever admonishment she might have given is interrupted by Nino, who’d apparently been eavesdropping: 

“What wacky theory did you come up with for that one?” He’s turned around in his seat, grinning up at both of them. Adrien follows suit, tapping Nino lightly on the shoulder so he can look at his signing and translate for both girls. “Beeteedubs, Adrien says he liked your newest pictures a lot, dude.” The blond nods emphatically in confirmation, a shy smile on his face. Marinette has to hold in a sigh. He’s so considerate… And nice… and pretty…

She needs help.

“It’s not _wacky_ , it’s legit research,” Alya protests. She turns her attention to Adrien, grinning back at him for the secondhand praise. “You must’ve seen them last night-- I posted them up real quick before I started writing. It’s the first time in _forever_ I got HD pics of our heroes, and it’s totally confirmed some stuff about their powers, so I wrote up an entire post about it last night!” 

“How am I the only one tired when you’re the one who never sleeps?” Marinette mumbles to herself. Adrien is the only one who catches it and he has to hide a silent chuckle behind his hand, sharing a conspiring look with her. Her heart can’t take this. Her voice is on the side of too loud when she speaks up next: “S-so what did the pictures confirm, exactly?” 

Alya, not needing to be asked twice, immediately pulls up the blog on her phone. Adrien and Nino lean closer to see, to the continued detriment of Marinette’s poor, fragile heart. He is so close? She could _touch_ him? She can’t do this. She’s _dying_. “Alright, so, first, Ladybug’s outfit is always different, which we kinda knew, but this one made it really obvious. Like, here, look, yesterday she was totally rocking the prince get up.” 

Alya pulls up a picture of Marinette’s alter ego from yesterday, and Marinette herself leans closer in interest in spite of herself. She doesn’t exactly have access to a full length mirror when she changes into Ladybug, and she and Chat both try to shy away from close up pictures and videos for the most part. There’s something a lot less mythical about a prince who rescues a princess and then immediately talks about it on live television, after all. (There are other reasons, of course, but the less Paris’s citizens know about the truth behind the magic, the better. “Keeping character” is as good as anything else people want to believe.)

Looking at the picture, Marinette feels a mix of pride and relief: the Ladybug on Alya’s phone is impossible to associate with her normal self. She can’t deny that she _was_ rocking the look, though she doubts she could ever make that costume look half as good without magic. For one thing, she’d never cut her hair that short, and for another, that kind of hat would just look silly on anybody. The look of self-confidence and mild amusement she’s giving the camera belies the moment in battle where she’d had to hastily shed her cloak so she could free her wings and fly to safety after she was thrown off the tower. She remembers how Chat’d put it back on her with a wink before she’d gone to see Alya, babbling something about her needing to look the part to fully “impurress” her audience. He’d been grinning, but his clawed hands had been shaking with more than leftover adrenaline, so she’d let him fix her up before bringing his hand to her lips and kissing it with all the flair her current role gifted her. She’d winked at his stunned face (it was more a stunt _he_ usually pulled, after all) and thanked him before rushing off. 

The memory spreads a warmth through Marinette’s belly, and she hastily looks away from the sight of herself in the prince costume. If that kind of look spurred her actions on like that, it was no wonder her companion did it all the time. Luckily for her, Alya doesn’t seem to notice Marinette acting odd, but that’s only because she’s far more concentrated on a certain blond’s faint flush as he looks at the picture. She winks at Adrien. 

“Smokin’, right? The short hair looks good on her,” Alya jokes. Marinette is the one who flushes, then, staring at Adrien’s sheepish look to the side with an open mouth. 

“Dude, how about you leave my main man alone, and just tell us what’s the scoop already before classes start?” Nino mockingly shoves his best friend’s shoulder even as he comes to his rescue. Adrien’s grateful smile already makes Marinette’s heart all aflutter, so it’s _extremely_ rude of him to make his fingers into a heart shape in thanks on top of that. She casually leans her chin against her hand in a thoughtful pose and bites at her index finger to stop herself from screaming. The things he does should be illegal. _Illegal._

“I’m getting to it, relax!” Alya rolls her eyes. “Like I was saying, the outfit changes, but there’s some stuff that stays the same every time. Here, look,” she scrolls through other pictures from the blog. “The most obvious is the ladybug spots and the colors: no matter what she wears, it’s always red, black or white. The same for Chat but with green, black and silver, but he’s kinda different, so I went more into it on my blog. Our “Lady”, though... she’s always got the mask around her eyes, like Zorro-- which is definitely not a fairy tale thing, but I'll let it pass. She’s always got the wings, too, even when they’re hidden. They look like ladybug wings, but they’re still definitely fairy based; they leave some kinda dust or sparkles…! Anyway. Her hairstyle changes, but her hair color doesn’t, her eyes are always the same—”

“The point, man, before we all die of old age,” Nino interrupts her tirade wearily. Alya shoves his cap further down his head for his trouble.

“Her magic or whatever changes her appearance, but it doesn't change _her_!” She declares, slamming the desk. What _that’s_ supposed to mean, Marinette doesn’t find out, because that’s when Miss Bustier chooses to start class.

“Alright, everybody, settle down, let’s start with taking presence…” 

Adrien, whose name is first on the list, hastily scribbles a sad face on a blank page of his notebook and shows it to them before turning back around with an angelic expression. Marinette and Alya both have to stifle a laugh, Marinette’s only slightly more hysterical. Nino outright snorts. 

Still, Marinette think she might have to ask Alya to pick up where she left off once they have more time. She’s quite curious what her friend’s conclusion was, not to mention the blog post she’ll have to read tonight to find out what she wrote about Chat...

\-----

She’s unable to ask Alya for her conclusion at lunch, because Alya has something else entirely in mind: grilling Marinette.

“You know there’s a ball coming up in a few weeks, right? You gonna ask Adrien?” She asks her as they walk to Marinette’s parents’ bakery. Marinette has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. The baker’s daughter, going to the ball with her prince… She lives fairytales every other day and even _she_ thinks that’s a bit much. “You should do it before someone _else_ swoops in, like, say… Chloé.”

Okay, nevermind, that’s worse.

“ _Alya_ ,” Marinette protests, tugging her arm out of her friend’s hold. “Don’t say such horrible things. Adrien’d never agree to go with her, friends or not. Besides, I … I can’t go to the ball.”

Alya looks at Marinette over the rim of her glasses, and Marinette shrinks in a little on herself when she scoffs. “Why not? Wait, don’t tell me. Your evil step-mother won’t let you,” she jokes, grin a bit too predatory for Marinette’s tastes. “Don’t worry, Marinella! I’ll get some mice and a pumpkin, and then you can chuck your glass shoe at Adrien’s head to your heart’s content.” 

“I think we learned very different versions of Cinderella,” ‘Marinella’ answers, deadpan. The name sounds like a disease, and it doesn’t even work with the tale. Marinette’s sensibilities are offended. “I don’t need a fairy godmother or an invitation to the ball, I _can’t_ go. I’m busy that night.”

(She doesn’t mention that she already _has_ a fairy godmother. Technically.)

“Busy with _what_?” 

The question gives Marinette pause. “It’s… a secret?” 

It’s a terrible excuse, and the look Alya gives her confirms that, but Marinette can’t very well tell her the real reason she can’t go, or why she won’t ask Adrien to the ball: because she’s Ladybug. Not that she’ll be going as Ladybug, either. Oh, she was _technically_ invited to the ball, and she’s rather certain the reason they’re throwing a fairytale-like ball in the first place is definitely because of her presence in Paris, but. Paris and fairy tales should be kept strictly separate. That’s her _job_. 

Marinette can’t go to the ball while she’s Ladybug for another reason: it’s the same reason she keeps deflecting Alya whenever she asks her when she’s going to ask Adrien out. Someday, Marinette plans to, definitely. She _wants_ to. He makes her heart do stupid things and she wants to smash his face against hers and hold hands and whatever other dumb, sappy things teens in love do. But. Marinette is Ladybug. Ladybug, the role, the character, the _hero_ , cannot give her heart to someone outside her fairy tale. That’s not how that works. Ladybug’s heart belongs to her cat, and though they dance around one another still, it’s inevitable. Just as inevitable as how fleeting their existence is meant to be. It would be unfair of Marinette to try to share anything with Adrien when half of her belongs to someone else. Once the fairy tales end-- once Paris is saved, truly, properly-- once Ladybug disappears, then and only then will Marinette make a move, if ever. On Adrien or anyone else. 

(Though she can’t imagine it being anyone else, _ever_ , but hopefully that’s just the fairy tale in her speaking.)

And none of that is something Marinette could explain to Alya, even if she _could_ tell the other girl who she embodies. It’s… weird magic rules. 

Probably. 

“You seriously think I’m going to settle with that answer?” Alya says, snapping Marinette out of her musings. She winces guiltily in response, a half-hearted grin on her face. 

“Um… I was hoping?” She jokes. “Ummm, listen, the fact is, I…”

Luckily, Marinette is saved from thinking up a valid excuse by the earth trembling as a giant beanstalk suddenly grows in the middle of the city, reaching out towards the sky and past the clouds.

Wait.

Wait, that’s not lucky at all.

\-----

Escaping Alya to check out overgrown vegetation was easier than Marinette anticipated, which is good. What’s less acceptable is that Alya technically escaped _her_ , rushing off to try to film the action with a “we’ll talk about this later” warning. Tikki appears seemingly out of thin air in a shower of sparkles that no one else can see as the girl gapes at where her best friend used to be. 

“I hope she stays far away enough,” Tikki muses aloud. “I don’t know what the range will be, with a center this tall…” 

“What is she hoping to film anyway, me taking an axe to this thing? She knows what’ll happen if she tries to climb!” Marinette crosses her arms, huffing. 

“Then we should probably check up on her before anything happens,” her fairy advises. “You know the words, Marinette! All you have to do is get us closer!”

The girl nods. “Right. And like you said, with a center this tall… Let’s go!” 

\----- 

It’s only when she feels the ripple of magic, reality bending as it tries to fit into a narrative, that Marinette can become Ladybug. 

Well, that’s not quite right. Technically, so long as she says the words, Tikki’s magic will happen no matter where she is. But there’s an advantage to knowing the curse’s magic before she gets there: her own magic reacts to it. Luck and creation weave together to give her both a fitting role and an advantage in her venture. 

Marinette holds Tikki up in her cupped hands. “Please, Tikki... will you grant my wish?”

“Your wish is my command.” Tikki smiles, beatifically. 

When your fairy godmother is a genie, a wish is just as good as any spell. Marinette closes her eyes as she feels the world shift.

\-----

Ladybug opened her eyes and looked down at herself. She was very confused about her outfit, and voiced her confusion aloud. 

“A witch?” She asked. “I don’t remember there being a witch in _Jack and the Beanstalk_.”

“You’re the loveliest witch I’ve ever seen, dear Lady,” came a voice not far from her. Ladybug turned around to face Chat Noir, taking in his own changed appearance. Her companion looked quite different from the day before, though his fanged grin was wild as always. 

“If I’m a witch,” Ladybug answered, moving the hat upon her head, “then you must be the witch’s familiar, minou. Though you look more like a sorcerer's apprentice.”

His ears twitched from where they stood out of his own hat. “I’m yours,” her cat said. His wide green eyes did not blink as he stated the fact. “But enough about that, why _did_ you end up with a witch’s hat?”

The lady frowned. She had no answer, and more than one concern. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard of stories with a good witch.” 

Chat bounded closer to her, his tail’s movements betraying his amusement. “The Wizard of Oz? Kiki’s--” 

“I didn’t ask for examples, silly cat,” Ladybug admonished him. She did not add that she did not believe those stories counted as the same kinds they were from. “Tell me, can you feel the curse’s source?” 

His eyes closed as he accepted her request, bowing low. He stayed perfectly still as he concentrated on feeling the magic, and once he straightened up, he pointed a clawed finger to the source. They both looked up, up and up, staring high into the sky at where the beanstalk ended. Ladybug expected this, but she still felt displeasure. 

“Are you ready for a climb, Ladybug?” Chat asked her. Ladybug looked down at her bare legs.

“... You go first.” 

\----- 

The climb was long and arduous, but Ladybug passed the time by questioning Chat on everything that would await them on top of the beanstalk. 

A giant, a magic harp and a goose that laid golden eggs, Chat Noir warned her. “Jack”, of course, was meant to slay the giant, though Ladybug knew better than to expect the curse to be so nice as to make its victim Jack. 

Ladybug hoped they didn’t fall. She didn’t think her wings could carry them both for that long.

Once they neared the top, an entire palace awaited them on top of the clouds. Chat Noir saw that she had stopped climbing and followed suit, a curious look on his face.

“The curse is a bit further up,” he told her. “Should we not keep climbing?” 

Ladybug shook her head. “Everything will come down once we break the curse,” she said. “We need to find the poor soul up here before we cut down this stalk.” Nodding in agreement with her decision, her cat jumped down first. His boots didn’t make a sound as he landed on the soft ground. The boy turned to offer her a hand down, and Ladybug ignored it as she hopped down herself. 

The giant’s castle loomed ahead of them. She felt quite naked in her witch’s robe and hat.

“Let’s see what magic has in store for me this time,” Ladybug muttered to herself. She brought both hands near each other, concentrating her powers until a ball of light appeared. The light formed a shape and she followed it, the flow of magic guiding her. When she was done, she looked at what her outfit had brought her… And stared.

“Maybe it means we’ll make a clean sweep,” Chat Noir offered at the sight of her broom. Ladybug simply sighed. 

“Let’s just go.”

\-----

The giant’s castle was aptly named, but navigating any area was no trouble for Ladybug with Chat at her side. Time hardly passed before they found their way to a room where a boy was hiding, next to a pile of golden eggs.

Ladybug was quite surprised the curse _had_ given him the role of Jack.

She stepped forward as Chat stayed back, on the lookout for the giant. “Hello,” she greeted, and the boy looked at her in wide-eyed surprise. “Please don’t be afraid. We’re here to help.” 

“Are you Ladybug?” The boy asked without moving from his spot. She nodded in answer. “You want to help me?” She nodded again. The boy rubbed at a golden egg. “Then please, help me repay the man who is saving my family. Fee, fi, fo, fum.” 

“What?” Ladybug was confused. Chat whipped around in horror and tackled her to safety just as a giant’s foot came crashing down.

Ah. Jack had _tamed_ the giant. That was a new one.

“Where was he _hiding_ that thing?” Chat hissed out as he and Ladybug sprinted away, hiding behind a table’s leg. “I couldn’t smell him at all!” 

“That must mean he’s a construct,” Ladybug answered. She held her broom with both hands, peering around the corner. Both boy and giant were coming nearer, and “Jack” was directing the giant’s every step. “You haven’t sensed anyone else, have you? That means all we have to do is get ‘Jack’ out of here and bring down the beanstalk.”

“You make it sound easy,” her companion complained before they both had to dive out of the way once more. They couldn’t afford to be hit by the giant, not even once.

Ladybug looked upon the room without answering him. There was an open window, up above. If they could reach it… She breathed in and unfolded her wings. Hopefully she wouldn’t need them later.

“Chat! Distract them!” She called out. It was Chat’s turn to nod as he concentrated his powers in his hand, a sword materializing out of what looked like inky darkness. She was not surprised. Chat Noir’s magic rarely gave him anything else. Perhaps it was the Puss in Boots in him. 

Chat Noir used his sword to stab the giant on the underside of his foot when it came down to squash him once more. The giant, destabilised, fell back, and Ladybug swooped in to catch “Jack” by the back of his shirt. She heaved him out of the room and the castle, keeping an eye on the beanstalk’s tip, visible in the distance. The giant groaned from inside his palace as the boy fought her hold. It was awkward, balancing both him and her broom, but she managed.

She knew Chat could climb out just as easily as she’d flown out, though she was still relieved when he did. The giant was not far behind him, however, smashing down the wall as he followed, and Chat sprinted on all fours ahead of her. 

“To the beanstalk, _quick_!” He called out to her, and she flew as fast as her wings could carry her with her young burden still struggling. She wished she had an axe instead of her broom, so she could bring the whole thing down. She threw the boy at Chat once she reached it and flew up, up and up. 

“Don’t touch it!” The boy cried as Chat held him in place. “I _need_ it!” 

She could not afford to feel pity for him. The giant drew nearer. _Finally_ , she reached the top, where a pod of beans awaited her. She grabbed it and opened it with haste. It contained three beans. She made sure to crush all three as she spoke: 

“Free them all from this spell, tell this dark magic farewell!”

A butterfly shaped shadow flew out, crumbling into specks of dust. Ladybug didn’t have time to rejoice, because as soon as it did, the world shook. Already, the giant and his castle were fading away, which meant...

“Ladybug!” Chat Noir called out from his spot on the beanstalk. He’d brought the child on top of a leaf before they fell through the clouds, but the plant was not much longer for this world either. She tried not to panic. She couldn’t fly with others for so long… How were they going to get down safely? The answer came to her as she remembered the broom she was carrying. She quickly straddled it and flew to both boys. Chat grinned, uncaring that the leaf he was standing on was starting to fade. “I hope there’s _broom_ for two more on that thing, my Lady!” 

“Not if you keep making jokes,” Ladybug answered. “Hop on, quick!” 

He didn’t have to be asked twice. They flew down.

\-----

By the time they get down, there are no more traces of the beanstalk. Ladybug felt a headache forming, the telltale sign that her magic had been exhausted by the flight. They’d taken it slow as to not to frighten the kid more, and also so she and Chat could question him on what happened. The boy had stayed silent for the most part. 

It was his sister, waiting for them on the ground, that answered them. 

“I told him he’d have to live with our grandparents,” she admitted, holding onto her crying sibling. “I simply can’t take care of our mother _and_ him. I told him it was about money, but… it’s not just the funds, I … I don’t have the capacity. Jacques… We’ll still see each other. Please, forgive me.”

“If I could’ve provided for us,” Jacques said, “Wouldn’t that have helped? There was gold up there.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir shared an awkward look as they spoke. They both silently agreed to leave the pair to it, vanishing in separate directions, as if they were never here.

\-----

Somewhere near school, Marinette opens her eyes. She looks at the time and gives a sigh. 

She’s missed the rest of her classes again.

\-----

_“I suppose, in the end, more … personal objects truly are better.”_

_“... Yes, Master.”_

_“The boy didn’t lose himself to the tale at all… It was certainly an interesting experiment.”_

_“... Are you not angry?”_

_“Happily ever after is an odd concept, isn’t it, Nooroo? It takes so little, for a family to lose everything.”_

_“...”_

_“It won’t be long now.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS ONE IS KIND OF AWKWARD... ugh...intros... anyway it's mostly meant to talk powers and introduce stuff (like the style switch attempt between ladybug & marinette which i totally will never Regret at all, clearly) and generalness. this is my infodump i guess?? i hate myself. also it was hinted at before but this is less of a love square and more of a "love hilarity". yes marinette. how can you ask adrien out when you are #destined to be with chat as ladybug. how. (adrien's side of that will be shown... poor babe hes the one who is cursed and i keep not giving him his own pov.)
> 
> i'll get to explaining it in the fic itself in more details but since it might be vague so far, keep in mind that the Talking Animal companion in fairy tales usually has 2 roles: to be the more Knowledgeable companion to the hero and aid w/ the plot (which is why chat is more tied to both stories & magic than Ladybug might seem to be), aaand also to secretly be the cursed love interest. BA DUM TChhhhh hh h 
> 
> ladybug is cardcaptor sakura with a different outfit "every episode" because i can. chat changes a little too, but he's more stagnant for Reasons, but he's getting his own vague tl;dr so i'll get to that later.
> 
> i went with jack & the beanstalk for chapter one because it's thematically relevant to nothing. it's ... really not a great fairy tale, so i can use it for info dumps. take that, jack & the beanstalk. 
> 
> lastly nino didn't learn sign language 2 fast 2 furious, adrien's been in school for over six months icly and he tries real hard for his best bro. <3
> 
> title: magic beans. even the title is uninspired this time. my baaaaaad


	5. as-tu entendu le loup huler en mal d'amour?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter 1b: little red riding hood, or: Ladybug and Chat Noir are characters in a story. Adrien is, too, except his doesn't have a cheat sheet.

Adrien’s obsession with stories only worsens after his mother and his voice are taken away. It’s part trying to cling to anything that reminds him of her after her disappearance, and part… what else was there for him to _do_ before he’d been allowed to go to school? He’s always wondered how Rapunzel lasted years locked in her tower without going insane. Adrien, at least, had access to the Internet. Oh, he had his lessons too, of course-- sign language, first, then the regular school work (that ended up with him currently being far ahead of his classmates, so maybe not that regular after all), music (piano, first, then whatever other instruments Adrien felt like picking up just so he could make _some sort_ of noise), and finally fencing (he’d started that one before everything, because of course young fairy tale obsessed him wanted to learn _sword fighting_ ). There was also modelling, those sessions that took him out of the house and were always, _always_ overlooked by his father. (Now that he’s started school, his father is more lenient there-- lives with only the Gorilla standing guard-- and Adrien… misses his constant, overbearing presence. They’d talk between takes, just the two of them, and his father had put his hand on Adrien’s shoulder and it was as close to Before as they could get with Adrien’s silence hanging between them and… and he’s being whiny. He’d wanted more freedom. This development might not have been what he expected-- he didn’t think he’d get even _less_ time with his busy father-- but it’s good. It’s fine.)

The _point_ being, Adrien’s unrelentless interest in fairy tales goes on unbridled in the years after he’s cursed and becoming Chat Noir doesn’t change that. In fact, it makes his general knowledge finally relevant to his day-to-day life, which is just another thing for him to be grateful to Plagg for. It’s also how he learns that Ladybug and Chat Noir come from one. 

That’s not quite right. He knows Ladybug and Chat Noir are part of a story the second he wishes upon his ring for the first time; it’s information that just comes with the magic, like how he understands immediately how to use his powers and the rules that come with all of them. It’s just… He thinks the story is fully their own until he talks to Plagg about it.

“It is, and it isn’t,” Plagg tells him then, the constant languid air about him unchanging. That’s when Adrien starts looking. 

The story they come from isn’t obscure, which makes Adrien’s lack of previous knowledge of it a bit surprising. It’s one of those fairy tales so old that dozens of versions exist from all over the world and no one can decide exactly what version is the original. (Adrien _thinks_ it’s the Chinese version, since that seems the oldest, but he might be comparing it too eagerly to Cinderella. Plagg is unhelpful on that front, like always.) The variations are quite wild, between all of them. Sometimes there are seven characters, sometimes three-- never more, never less, which makes sense: three and seven are the magic numbers. Sometimes they are animals, sometimes they are human, sometimes they fight each other and sometimes they fight outside forces. Trials, wishes, magical powers, genies, fairies-- every version hits a different note. Adrien pours over every single version of the story he can get his hands on and notes the similarities to try to get the full story himself. Plagg is unappreciative of his efforts and complains the whole time, but the joke’s on him: Adrien enjoys the constant noise in his room. Proof of life. 

There’s a lot he gathers from the tales, though he’s not sure how relevant any of this information is, but the things he keeps to heart are what he learns about the black cat and the ladybug. They each are one half of a whole, destined to each other. Soul mates, one might say, but fairy tales don’t tend to use that word. The ladybug loves her cat and the cat loves her and it always, always … 

Always ends in tragedy. 

The thing is, none of that shocks Adrien. Fairy tales aren’t always particularly _nice_. The idea of him belonging to Ladybug, of their magic being reflections of one another’s, of her being his _true love_ \-- he hadn’t been sure, but he’d wanted it. He’d felt it and only hoped she felt the same. It’d certainly felt that way. 

And, honestly, if he was only Chat, Adrien would ignore the warnings and go for it. No one in stories has ever succeeded by giving up when things got difficult, not to mention that the thought of defying fate with their love makes him want to give it a shot, more than anything. He loves her, destiny or not, and he wishes he could prove it to her. Hopes she loves him even half as much. 

But Adrien isn’t just Chat Noir, dashing hero and Ladybug’s true love. Adrien is _cursed_ , with a magic so strong it even affects his form as Chat. He knows, technically, true love is one way to end a curse, but. But.

What if it _isn’t_? They’re destined to each other via magic, but would she be if he was just Adrien? Worse, what if it is and it still doesn’t work, what _then_?

He’s a coward. He can’t test it. He _loves_ her, and he wants to her to know so, so badly. Yet there’s a time limit on his time as Chat Noir, just like there’s a time limit on her time as Ladybug. He doesn’t know how or when, but he knows that story will end. All stories do. 

And maybe if he wasn’t Adrien he’d gun for the chance of a happy ending with her, but he’s two stories in one. If Chat Noir and Ladybug usually end in tragedy, what chance do they have with Adrien in the picture?

He _knows_ Ladybug loves him. It’s in her eyes, in her touch, in her smile, in her voice, in her magic-- 

But the girl behind the mask is the one who’d be stuck with him forever. As amazing as he knows she is, she doesn’t deserve that. She doesn’t deserve him.

\-----

Chat Noir was first alerted to the full oddness of his appearance by Ladybug, the first time they’d had more than twelve seconds before their wishes ran out after breaking a curse. 

Ladybug’s outfit that day was a polka dotted hood she’d kept pulled up, her hair in twin braids, and the freckles on her face looked more prominent than usual. He’d thought her awfully cute but called her _belle à croquer_ , because his sense of humor beat his sense of self-preservation by a mile. She’d rolled her eyes. A smile had pulled at her lips, though, so he’d counted it as a win.

She got her revenge once they were alone, sitting together up high on a roof. She knelt next to him and he turned to face her, cross-legged. She grabbed his hand first, holding it in her own smaller one, and gasped, voice high pitched and completely fake. 

“Why, Chat Noir,” she said, “what sharp claws you have!” 

Chat huffed out a laugh. “The better to defend you with, my Lady,” he answered, knowing exactly what she was referencing. He wasn’t an amateur fairy tale enthusiast! His Lady curled her fingers with his and he was too aware, suddenly, of the unnatural shape of his bare hand. His claws _were_ sharp, and his knuckles curled in on themselves naturally without him thinking about it, his hands in a constant “paw” motion… She was careful not to hurt herself holding it. She brought her other hand up to his head, running it through his hair up to his ear, which she rubbed. 

(Did he even have human ears, like this? He had never thought about it.)

“What soft ears you have,” she said this time, and the feeling of her fingers scratching there made him feel so good he purred. He watched her, eyes half-lidded, before remembering that it was his turn to play along.

“The better to make you pet me with?” He joked. She sent him a look at his half-hearted attempt but continued their game, her hand moving softly from his hair to his face, two fingers moving softly over the skin below his eyes. The feeling was odd and he realized the dark stripe he’d seen over his eyes in pictures or his own reflection wasn’t a mask like hers was, but _fur_. A fine, dark layer of fur over half of his face. Ladybug’s own impossibly blue eyes reflected his face back at him, fur ending at his (thankfully human) nose, his cat eyes unnatural and too bright.

“What big eyes you have,” her voice shook him out of his reverie, and Chat gulped at the sight of her long lashes so close to his face. He was thankful for the return of the real script.

“The better to see you with, my Lady,” he whispered this time. She cupped his face in answer and Chat Noir shuddered. Her hand slid down his face until it reached his lips, her thumb running over his bottom one. He parted them obediently, though her thumb stayed right where it was. 

“What big fangs you have,” she breathed, her face impossibly close to his. He ran his tongue over his fangs self-consciously, but they _were_ big, and he accidentally licked the tip of her thumb. She removed her hand from his face as if burnt, eyes wide.

“The-- the better to eat you with,” Chat finished the tale. She didn’t seem to know what to do anymore and changed directions completely, stretching to grab hold of Chat Noir’s still tail, far away from his face.

“What, um… What a long tail you have,” she stuttered, petting it. Her eyes wouldn’t meet his, fixated somewhere near his boots, so even though Chat Noir’s heart was beating wildly in his chest, he spared her the acknowledgement of their moment:

“Reaching,” he accused instead, a half-smile on his face. She stuck out her tongue at him.

“You make a terrible big bad wolf, anyway,” Ladybug told him.

He took it as a compliment.

She was still holding his hand.

\-----

Adrien’s appearance as Chat doesn’t vary half as much as Ladybug’s. His costume changes slightly, to fit with hers, but a lot of it stubbornly stays the same. (The boots, for one, because Adrien made the mistake of thinking of Puss in Boots once and now he is Puss, forever.) He’s less human than she is, too. Both these things can be attributed to Adrien’s curse. 

So much of Chat’s magic is spent counteracting it that there isn’t enough for him to reach his full potential like she has, and the knowledge is not… great. Luckily, Ladybug is _the_ hero, and Chat Noir’s powers are fine enough for him to be a perfect support. He’s more attuned to magic and he has his knowledge of stories and his fencing, and anything else she might ever need from him. Information, backup, distraction, bodyguard, _fetch quests_ \-- she names it, he does it.

The only problem is he can’t break a curse. If he didn’t have his own, he _could_ , which burns him, but he deals with it. At least, he _tries_. 

\-----

Curse or no, Adrien has a life outside of Chat Noir, a life outside of his _home_ , and that’s exhilarating. 

Nino is the first friend Adrien makes, and he is the best he could ever ask for. He latches onto the other boy after he offers him friendship like a particularly clingy sloth, and Nino learns sign language for him, without Adrien ever asking. It’s incredible. The only other person who’s ever learnt it of their own volition is his father-- everyone else who knows it has been paid to. Not even Chloé bothered. (She’d _tried_ , but declared it too difficult after two fruitless months and declared that it didn’t matter, since Adrien could always write her what he wanted to say. It… Well. It was very Chlo.) 

Nino’s funny, laidback, understanding, and probably the nicest guy Adrien has ever met. He’s just… he’s great. Adrien’s so grateful for him. 

It’s Nino who tells him about the ball. 

“I dunno if I’ll go,” he says after bringing it up during break. “It’s not really my scene, y’know? Not unless they’re looking for a DJ.” 

The part of Adrien that has read too many fairy tales to count feels disproportionately excited about even the _mention_ of a ball, but he’s saved from acknowledging that by Alya dropping into their conversation. (Which is good, because Adrien has to Cinderella _himself_ from going to any ball. No matter how much he wants to.) 

“No way, you guys have to go,” she interrupts, slamming their table dramatically. Adrien leans back by reflex while Nino grimaces. “I’m having a hard enough time convincing Marinette to show up, if anyone else in class isn’t going, _especially_ you guys, it’s never gonna happen!” 

Adrien shares a confused look with his best friend. He’s not sure which part strikes him as weirder: Alya’s determination to get Marinette to go to the ball like she’s her personal fairy godmother or her statement that his and Nino’s presence would somehow be a factor. The latter, probably. Of course, both of them are friends with her, but… 

Adrien likes Marinette, he _does_. She’s nice, she has a strong sense of justice, she’s talented, and she’s just awkward enough to not make all of that seem intimidating. She’s cute, too, with her pigtails and her tendency to fall over herself or mix up words when she’s excited. She’s learnt a few words of sign language for him, and her stilted motions when she signs hello or goodbye always make his heart jump in his throat with excitement. She’s painfully kind to him, considering how disastrous their first meeting was, and Adrien’s glad to consider her a friend. 

But it’s not like both of them are particularly close. He kinda wishes they were, and he tries his best to make her see that, but straightforward communication isn’t Adrien’s forte. For obvious reasons. Adrien’s tried to just _show_ her a few times... Unfortunately, it’s ended in disaster every single time. 

Once, for example, she’d fallen right in front of him, and he’d kept hold of her hand after helping her up, writing letters in her palm to let her know he didn’t mind and to remind her of their (far more successful) second meeting. He’d barely finished spelling out C U T E before she’d retracted her hand with a high pitched screech, face flushed, and ran to Alya for cover. Nino had been the one to tell him that what he’d done was closer to flirting than the platonic reassurance he’d probably meant it to be. Adrien’d hastily written out an apology to Marinette for embarrassing her.

(Honestly, he wouldn’t mind dating her, he thinks, if he was a normal boy with a normal life. Then again, Adrien’s always been a bit too fond of stories even before he realized he was one; maybe even as a regular teen he wouldn’t have been able to date someone if he hadn’t fallen head over heels for them at first sight. True love and all that. He’s …a hopeless case, in more ways than one, but that’s how his mother’s always described falling for his father. He thinks even without a curse, he’d have wanted to have that. But he _is_ cursed, so that’s useless speculation.)

All that to say, Adrien and Marinette aren’t that close-- through no fault of her own, of course. Neither are Nino and Marinette, as far as he knows. So he really doesn’t see why their presence at a ball, a _decidedly romantic_ ball at that, would ever factor into Marinette’s decision to go or not. 

Making Nino translate all of that is a bit much, though, so Adrien settles with quickly writing out a “Why?” on his notebook instead. In response, Alya looks at him like she does Marinette when the girl butchers her sentences or trips down the stairs. Adrien doesn’t know how to feel about seeing it directed at him. Then she looks at Nino, who raises his hands in defense and shrugs.

“Y’all gotta be kidding me with this,” she deadpans. She plasters a (rather terrifying) smile on her face as she leans even closer. It’s distinctly predatory. “C’mon, just think about it, obviously if we all go as a group Marinette’s more likely to come with than just plain ol’ me. I love my girl, but she’s just giving me excuses and I refuse to see her lock herself up in her tower just because she’s hoping for Romeo to come to her balcony or whatever. I want her to go to the ball and have the night of her _life_.”

It’s obvious that Alya feels very strongly about this. Strongly enough that Nino acquiesces with a sigh, at least. They both then turn to look at him, Alya expectant and Nino exasperated, and Adrien…

Adrien has not thought of an excuse yet. 

He scrambles to write something, _anything_ , and settles on “can’t, busy”, which Nino accepts with an understanding nod. For her part, Alya looks like she’s going to throw herself off the face of this Earth.

“Both of you? Seriously?”

Adrien doesn’t get to know what she means by that because Marinette bursts into class right in the nick of time, and Alya immediately goes on to pretend like nothing happened.

“I don’t get her,” Nino tells him in an undertone. Adrien signs ‘same’.

\---- 

Adrien’s got exactly two methods of getting in touch with his father. The first is to text him, using the number only he has access to-- his father’s private line. It’s mostly for emergencies, and though his father’s told him After that anything Adrien ever needs from him _is_ an emergency, he’s been reluctant to use it since he’d dialed the number in desperation when he was ten and failed to tell his father _anything_ of use, forcing the man to rush home to his own personal tragedy. The second and more reliable method is for Adrien to ask Nathalie. 

When his father had introduced Nathalie to the household, Adrien, young, voiceless and motherless, had absolutely expected for her to become his evil step-mother. She’d been stoic and cold during their first meeting, and Adrien’d hid behind his father in a manner he hadn’t done in years, clinging to his shirt. She hadn’t even lifted an eyebrow at his behavior, continuing to look straight at Gabriel Agreste’s unfaltering stoic condescension. She’d been chosen to be his father and Adrien’s personal assistants, Gabriel had said (and Adrien knows now that he’d been explaining it for his son’s sake, since Nathalie had already known), and she would also be teaching both of them sign language so that Adrien could properly communicate.

Nathalie is, honestly, a godsend. Adrien feels guilty he’d ever thought of her as wicked, because despite her last name, she’s the furthest thing from heartless. Her no-nonsense demeanor had worried him at first, and he’d been shy and hesitant around her for an embarrassing amount of time. He hadn’t noticed that she’d picked up on it until she’d stopped a photoshoot in the middle because the photographer was making Adrien uncomfortable. Even Gabriel hadn’t noticed-- Adrien’d been trying to hide it. When he asked, she said it was her job to know what he needed, since he couldn’t say it during most of his activities. After that, Adrien’d immediately dropped whatever ridiculous notions he had about stepmothers with her. (Besides. His father was definitely not about to remarry any time soon.)

If she’s anything, Adrien supposes he can break the fairy tale mold to call her Mary Poppins, though far closer to the book than the adaptations. He is never telling her this, because that’s… embarrassing.

(Mary Poppins might not be a fairy tale, but it has good lessons, and the one he tries to take to heart these days is that, even if their father was busy, the Banks children learned that that didn’t mean he loved them any less.

Love makes the difference, whether it be in stories or in life.)

Nathalie’s direct line of contact with Adrien’s father is why she’s the one who tells him in no uncertain terms that his father will absolutely not let him go to the upcoming ball. He hadn’t even asked.

Can you be disappointed and relieved all at once? Because Adrien’s feeling that.

\-----

Is it selfish, to hope Ladybug, whoever she is behind the mask, doesn’t go either?

It is, isn’t it?

Adrien’s a mess. 

\-----

_“Why… a ball, Master?”_

_“It’s a staple. If anything is to happen… It’ll be that day.”_

_“Then… You won’t--”_

_“But that doesn’t mean I’ll wait so long. After all… the people of Paris don’t need a ball to need a fairy godmother to come to their aid, do they?”_

_“... No, they don’t.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will i ever keep a consistent style. the magic eight ball says "looks unlikely".
> 
> i THINK i'm done introing concepts and characters with this one... a five chapter intro ... kill me... And not all chapters will have a b-side but Ladynoir & Adrienette from both sides was an important thing to describe. To me. Specifically. also with roles and fairytales i am getting more princess tutu than i wanted to. I'M SORRY MY INFLUENCES ARE GREATER THAN I
> 
> Anyway Adrien "aggressively wants to romance and be romanced but also 2 aware of fairy tales downfalls and pitfalls" Agreste, who is making me think I should've renamed this story "I won't say I'm in love" because between him and Marinette why do I try. Buuuut wrongful true love confessions are deadly in fairy tales so, y'know, kitty's got a point. 
> 
> I try not to ouiaboo the fic and drop french everywhere just because I Can, but I couldn't resist with this so: "belle à croquer" is really the equivalent of saying someone looks good enough to eat. It's mostly used for women. It didn't need to be in french except "beautiful enough to eat" is a better pun. that's my excuse and i'm sticking to it [whistles] 
> 
> the title baaaasically means "have you ever heard the wolf howl from lovesickness/lack of love" (two in one) and since Chat was the Big Bad Wolf it was too fitting to not steal the pocahontas lyrics. I also could've used a Mary Poppins lyric but listen referencing that one was tongue-in-cheek because Mr Banks is Gabriel Agreste and someone should write that AU (no. don't)


	6. mais aux pages du temps mon coeur s'éveille en secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2: beauty & the beast; or, love is difficult and terrible and who let nino dj this thing anyway

Marinette isn't what she’d call lucky on most days, but sometimes even misfortune is a blessing in disguise. 

That idea is the furthest thing on her mind when she wakes up that morning, already an hour late for class. Her scream sounds like she’s being attacked, going by Tikki’s wide eyed look. She’s far too busy scrambling (and falling over herself in her haste) to acknowledge her fairy’s concern. Clothes, hair, makeup and collecting her school things: she struggles to do all of these things at once as she chants a “late, late, _I am so late_ ” mantra. It’s only when she puts an arm through the leg of her pants that she stops herself with an incredulous look at what she’s doing. That … that is not even close to being accurate. She’s kind of afraid to look at what she’s done in the past five minutes she’s been scrambling all over, now.

Of course, her mom chooses this exact moment to pop her head through Marinette’s trapdoor, to further cement her humiliation. Also, possibly because Marinette sounded like she was being murdered. _Possibly_.

“Marinette, you’re still here?” Her mother asks, bewildered, then heaves a sigh of… relief? Uh-oh. “Thank goodness. I thought you were at school, like all those other poor students…” 

Marinette, half-dressed in pajamas still, her hair in lopsided pigtails and with her arm through the capris she meant to wear, feels her heart drop to her stomach. “What? What’s wrong with the school?” 

“It’s a curse, my heart,” her mom says softly. “The police have blocked the area for now, but there’s still no sign of Ladybug. We were so worried you were in there with them… For once, I’m glad you were late for school.” 

“Me too,” Marinette forces a laugh out of herself. She doesn’t dare glance in Tikki’s direction, even though she knows her mother wouldn’t see anything there. “Well, if school’s cancelled, do you and Papa mind if I finish getting dressed and work on a project today? I’m just going to be worried all day if I don’t concentrate on something else.” 

Sabine smiles in understanding at her daughter’s lie. “Of course, they’re your friends. It’s normal to be worried. Don’t forget to come down to eat at some point, I’ll tell you if there’s any news.” 

Marinette manages a weak thanks as her mother climbs back down. Sabine is the one who told Marinette about the story of Ladybug when she was young-- an old fairy tale from her childhood, she’d called it-- and Marinette can’t help but feel guilty hiding that identity from her. Not to mention how worried her parents have been getting because of all of Marinette’s absences and exhaustion. This lie is just one more on top of an ever-growing pile. She can’t tell them, though. She knows she can’t. 

That’s why Marinette stoically finishes getting dressed without looking at Tikki, worrying her bottom lip. Alya, Adrien, and the rest of her classmates… How close were they when the initial curse had set? How long had Chat Noir been waiting for her in there? He can’t undo a curse. She knows that. She can’t believe she slept through so much, and now... 

“Marinette,” Tikki’s voice breaks through her thoughts. “It’s going to be fine. It looks like it’s concentrated to the school right now. You’ll be alright.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Marinette counters. “Let’s go.” 

\----- 

This isn’t the first time Marinette sneaks out of her house through the side door, nor is it likely to be the last. It’s also not the first time she has to sneak inside the school without being caught, though usually she’s not trying to dodge well-meaning police officers.

Luckily, Parisians know to stay far away from magic, Alya notwithstanding. Even the most daring of reporters learned the hard way that Papillon’s curses _love_ to drag anyone close by into their stories. In the original tale Marinette knew, the butterfly’s powers were blessings, similar to a legitimate fairy godmother. She isn’t certain if it’s the corruption of the magic that makes it affect other people as well as the chosen target or if the good magic would’ve had similar results. Tikki is awfully cryptic when it comes to anything related to the tale Ladybug comes from, so she can’t ask her, either. 

Still, since no one enjoys being cursed, only two or three police officers are on the scene, on the lookout for Ladybug to brief her on what they know, which Marinette knows from experience will be completely unhelpful to her. The only reason they know the school is under a curse at all is that its appearance has been drastically altered. 

“The rose bushes and gargoyles are a nice touch,” Marinette mutters to herself as she successfully sneaks past Officer Raincomprix and feels the air shift around her. She’s right outside the doors, the magic seemingly contained by the school doors. Depending on when the curse hit, there’s a lot of victims in there. Marinette can only hope Chat Noir hasn’t been struggling too much in her absence. 

She says the magic words.

\----- 

Ladybug entered the school after a customary glance at her outfit. It was a beautiful and intricate dress that left her wings out in full view, her hair cascading down her backs in long rivulets, and once she pulled up her skirts to walk and noticed the heels she was wearing, she decided she would have a few choice words with Tikki once this was all over. 

What was she meant to do, like this? Surely not fight. 

Ladybug took a deep breath and steeled herself before setting out through the changed school. The interior was just as gloomy as the exterior; decrepit and dark, with gothic decorations everywhere. She couldn’t figure out what story the curse was based off of from this. She pursed her lips at the thought even as she kept walking. 

The sound of her heels clacking against the floor was the only thing accompanying her on her journey. It was strange, that the school could be changed so much but that not a single soul would show themselves to her. There were objects lying around, but not a single person. Could the curse have set before classes had even started? And where was Chat Noir? 

She stopped in front of a door with a heavy frown. Without noticing it, Ladybug’s steps had taken her to where her class should’ve been held. What would she find behind that door? What had become of her classmates? Ladybug had entered the castle with ease, but she was nowhere closer to figuring out the curse. It wouldn’t hurt to check, would it? She worried for Alya, Adrien and everyone else. If they were affected, then at least she’d have _some_ answers. That thought in mind, she pulled the door open. 

Her class was as empty as the rest of the building. Ladybug resisted the urge to let out a sigh as she walked into it regardless, puzzling over the scattered objects in the room. Everyone’s bags and things were simply lying there, so they must have been here when the curse had hit. So, then, where did they all go? If they were afflicted by it, shouldn’t she have noticed them by now? It didn’t make any sense. 

Ladybug walked towards Alya’s bag, noticing her phone lying on the ground next to it. She bent to pick it up with a heavy heart; Alya would never leave her phone behind--

“Ladybug!” A voice came from the phone, startling her enough that she nearly dropped it. She caught it after a fumble and raised it to eye-level in shock. The screen showed a… recording? of Alya happily jumping up and down and waving her hand at her. “I am _so_ glad you finally showed up!”

That wasn’t a recording at all, Ladybug realized. It was actually Alya. What was she doing in her phone? 

“Alya,” Ladybug said, then paused. She wasn’t sure which question to ask first. “How did you end up in your phone?” She settled on, a questioning frown on her face. 

“I’m not in the phone,” her friend explained. “I _am_ the phone! Everyone in the class was turned into an object when the curse hit!” 

Ladybug’s brow furrowed deeper and she turned to look around what used to be her class. If she concentrated enough on them, she could actually feel which items they were turned into. Juleka was the jewelry she usually wore on her hand, Chloé; her ever-so-constant pair of sunglasses, Nathanaël was his sketchbook… She looked towards Adrien and Nino’s usual place. 

“I’m the only one who can talk,” Alya explained, interrupting Ladybug’s contemplation, “though DJ Lahiffe over there is trying his best.”

Nino, who had obviously been turned into his MP3 player, blasted a song from his headphones: (Adrien must be his notebook, Ladybug deduced. The telltale strain of cursed magic seemed lighter there, but it was present.)

“ _Why you gotta be so mean?_ ” An American pop singer sounded from there, before switching abruptly back to a man’s voice in French: “ _Je fais de mon mieux_.” 

“I’d say he’s _only_ limited to the songs he has in his arsenal, but he’s got a lot more in there than you’d think,” Alya said, tone dry. Ladybug heaved a sigh. She was confused, but at least everyone was okay. As… okay as they could be while being magically cursed into objects. Speaking of which… 

“Can you tell me what happened?” She demanded, grabbing the phone-- or, that is, Alya-- with both hands. 

The picture of Alya only shrugged helplessly. “I wasn’t looking when it happened, but… right before class, Ivan and Mylène were talking? They were in their own corner, so no one really thought anything about it… Anyway, all of a sudden Adrien’s getting up with a look of wild panic on his face and signing some stuff to Nino, and the next thing I knew all of us were like this. And--”

“ _Un monstre à Paris_ ,” a dulcet voice interrupted from Nino’s headphones. Ladybug’s best friend huffed angrily in response. 

“Ni _no_ , I was getting to that!” 

But Ladybug didn’t need any more explanation. She’d figured it out. Ivan must’ve turned into a beast. No, not _a_ beast; _the_ Beast. Adrien must’ve noticed the cursed object and tried to alert Nino even as he rushed to stop Ivan from making a mistake. He was so thoughtful that way. It was too bad he couldn’t communicate at all like this, Ladybug thought as she glanced longingly at his notebook-self. It would’ve been extremely helpful for her to know what shape the curse had taken.

“Isn’t the curse turning you guys into objects only in the Disney version?” Ladybug asked, sardonically. If this was truly the tale she was experiencing, her intricate dress and overly-displayed wings must mean she was the Enchantress. Beauty, after all, must’ve been relegated to Mylène. She didn’t know how she felt about her role being so antagonistic. She was far more concerned about what her magic would summon for her based on it. 

She did not think a rose would help in this situation. At all.

“The curse affects the Prince’s whole Kingdom in a few versions of the tale,” Alya informed her. Ladybug acknowledged this with a hum. It’s true that the curses played fast and loose with what was considered the “real” story, anyway. She felt a pang when she realized this fairytale fact-check was usually Chat’s role. Where _was_ her cat? 

“ _Te voilà avec une gueule de chat, à funambuler sur les toits_ ,” music piped up from Nino suddenly, and Ladybug wrenched her gaze away from Alya towards him in shock. How had he known what she was thinking?

But he hadn’t been mind-reading her at all; there, sitting still next to Nino’s headphones was a small cat. A kitten, really. Transfixed, Ladybug took the few steps separating both of them before crouching down. The kitten stayed where it was, only flicking an ear in response. It kept staring at her with wide, deep, green eyes.

“Hey, Ladybug, a little help? I can’t see what’s happening,” Alya complained, muffled by the grip she had on the phone. Ladybug dutifully flipped her around so the camera was pointing that way, though she kept all her attention to the kitten.

It couldn’t be, could it? Chat Noir’s magic couldn’t truly be _that_ unlucky.

True, the cat didn’t look like what she’d ever imagine Chat Noir would look like. For one thing, she’d figured he’d be a full grown cat. For another, he wasn’t purely black, but tortoiseshell: his fur a mix of dark and orange and…so _fluffy_ , where she would’ve imagined him sleek. His eyes were the same, though, that vibrant green that sometimes made her reconsider her favorite color being pink. Not to mention that silver band around his neck, barely visible under all that fur, that seemed to call out to her… 

She held out her hand towards him and he headbutted it, gently. It had to be him, she was sure of it.

“Your magic has a really bad sense of humor, kitten,” Ladybug said. Chat’s ears fell back and his tail twitched, but he stayed silent. She scratched him under the chin. “This is not a good day for us.” 

“Please tell me I can still record things while being my phone,” Alya asked from her neglected phone. Ladybug abruptly turned the screen back towards herself. 

“Don’t do things that might hurt you when this is all fixed,” she warned her. Then she turned to deposit Alya next to her bag again. She ignored the muffled “hey!” the girl cried and Nino’s accompanying sad trombone noise. “Chat, do you know where the curse is?” 

The kitten nodded in answer and Ladybug grabbed Alya’s bag from the floor before emptying its contents. 

“I don’t have any pockets to carry you, and if we run into trouble, you’ll need a space to hide,” she explained when Chat tilted his head in question. The look he sent her was distinctly unamused. “C’mon, kitty, look at yourself. All it’ll take is the Beast stepping on you and you’d be toast. Get in the bag.”

She held the bag open with a stern look until Chat huffed quietly and walked in. Ladybug left it open as she put it on so her partner could peek out, small paws holding onto the edge as he looked around. It wasn’t the best solution, but it’d have to do. 

“Hey, wait! Where are you going?” Alya’s voice rang out. 

“To break the curse, of course,” Ladybug answered. She addressed her whole class as she spoke: “Don’t worry. You’ll all be free from this spell. I give you my word.” 

She left on that, ignoring Alya’s complaints and Nino playing a song with entirely too much laughter in it.

\-----

Her trek continuing, Ladybug almost wished she’d brought Alya along for company. Even though she had Chat with her, pointing out directions by gesturing with a paw or nudging her side, her journey was just as silent as when she’d first entered the castle.

She wasn’t sure why, but Chat Noir was absolutely refusing to make a sound. No meowing, no purring, nothing. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to bring a noise out of him either. From random scratching and petting, to poking him at irregular intervals, nothing came out of it except Chat nipping her fingers once. Was he embarrassed? True, being this small of size, his meow was probably far more high pitched than usual, but she’d heard him purr as himself before. Why would he refrain from doing it now? 

“You’re _pawfully_ quiet today, kitten,” Ladybug tried in the silence. Chat didn’t answer. “Won’t you meow for me? Just once.” 

Chat Noir responded by attempting to throw himself out of Alya’s bag. She caught him mid-jump and put him back in with a laugh.

“Alright, alright, sorry. But you shouldn’t be ashamed,” she said, softer this time. She scratched behind his ear and he leaned into it. “I think you’re even cuter than usual like this.” 

Chat turned wide eyes at her and she winked. The cat leaned further into her and, if she pressed her hand this time, she could feel it. She still couldn’t hear it, but it was there-- a faint rumble in his chest. It wasn’t quite what she’d wanted, but she felt satisfied nonetheless. 

She always felt better when she could feel her partner by her side.

\-----

If Ladybug had thought the school-turned-castle was dreary, it was nothing compared to the place Chat Noir lead her to. 

Chat had brought her to the basement of the school, past a place that looked decidedly more like a dungeon than anything else. The silence was suffocating at this point; the only noise the steps Ladybug was making and the water dripping from the ceiling. Atmospheric, sure, but all it did was give her the creeps. Where was Ivan? Why hadn’t he been looking for her earrings and Chat’s ring-turned-collar yet? 

What was Chat leading her to? 

Only when they were almost entirely engulfed in darkness, in the farthest room of the basement, did she finally hear another noise. It sounded like… growling. 

“ _La bête_ ,” Ladybug breathed, throwing an alarmed look at Chat. He didn’t seem worried, only staring back at her serenely. He nodded towards the back of the room, where the growling seemed to origin from. Easy for him to say: he was safe in a bag while she was about to face an angry beast-turned-Ivan wearing high heels. 

But it wasn’t Ivan’s fault, and if the cursed item was near him, then Ladybug had no choice but to go too. She stepped into the room with that in mind, wondering if she should’ve gathered her magic in advance. 

It was nearly impossible to see in the darkness, the only light coming from the doorway she was standing in, so Ladybug almost missed the hunched over silhouette at the back of the room. The intermittent growls were coming straight from that direction, so her attention was drawn to it. The silhouette was huge and… shaking? 

Ladybug forgot any reservations she might’ve had.

“Are you alright?” She asked. She stepped closer, a hand raised to comfort them, and the beast shouted: 

“Don’t look at me!”

The voice was guttural, more growls than words, but Ladybug recognized it regardless. She froze in her steps.

“ _Mylène_?”

\-----

_Once upon a time, there was a girl who was afraid of everything. She was lovely in every other aspect, but it was impossible for her to tell, so terrified she was. She was so afraid, she even feared her own feelings._

_She wished, more than anything, that she could overcome it, if only long enough so she could confess to the boy she loved. Her wish was heard by a shadow._

_“Gift him this rose,” the shadow told her. “It will show him your true self, without fear getting in the way.”_

_The girl was quite afraid of the shadow, but hope won over fear long enough for her to stutter out: “W-will it truly work?”_

_The shadow grinned._

\-----

Mylène, for it was truly her, stayed shivering in the dark. 

“I handed the rose over to Ivan, and I… I became like _this_!” She growled. Ladybug resisted the urge to flinch, attempting to step closer once more but stopping when Mylène’s growl grew in pitch. She was terrified. Even like this… “I should’ve known…”

“Mylène…” Ladybug tried, but she was interrupted as the girl turned monster continued her lament.

“I knew it was foolish to get my hopes up,” she cried. “My true self… I was so afraid of confessing to Ivan. I--I know I’m not pretty, or brave, or smart… Why would he ever like me? Even inside, I’m not any better!” 

Ladybug felt her hackles rise and this time didn’t listen to the warning hysterical growl as she stepped closer. Mylène was huge; even crouched she was easily towering over her, with sharp claws and some fur the same multi-color as her hair. Her legs were scaled, with talons, and Ladybug ignored all of that as she put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. 

“Mylène, _no_. This isn’t you, it’s the curse!” 

Chat Noir’s gaze turned to her in the dark, his bright green eyes the only thing truly visible. Ladybug and Mylène both ignored him, the latter too busy staring at the hero with watery eyes. 

“The curse would be broken if I got your earrings and Chat Noir’s ring,” Mylène told her, diverting her eyes. “But I already told Chat when he found me…That… That is him, right? The kitten? I told him, it’s not worth it for me to even try. I’m not smart, or talented, or-- or anything. I’m just a _coward_ , curse or no curse.” 

Ladybug’s jaw was clenched so hard she thought she might break it. 

“You’re wrong,” she said, voice low. “This curse isn’t who you are. The butterfly… He preys on people’s emotions; he takes people’s wishes and _twists_ them for his own gain.”

“That doesn’t change who I am,” Mylène answered. “I made that wish. I took that rose. I thought… I thought, for once, I didn’t have to fear anything. That the outcome would be good. And I--I’m more scared than ever. Even when you break the curse… I’ll still be scared.”

Ladybug grimaced. It was something she had thought before, but hadn’t discussed with anyone but Chat. Their enemy, the shadowed foe they were after, they stopped him. They freed his curse. But they couldn’t help the people who had wished in the first place. They couldn’t grant their wish or undo the feelings of despair and longing that had caused them to wish at all. Paris was better keeping away from stories, because Ladybug and Chat Noir couldn’t make them one. People… people aren’t stories. 

Ladybug breathed in. She concentrated her magic but kept it curled in her fist, waiting for the right time. Chat Noir’s tail twitched in recognition and he stared in wonder, distracted.

“Everybody’s scared,” she told Mylène. “Being brave is just being afraid but choosing to act anyway. Taking that rose and giving it to Ivan… Even if you thought it was a shortcut, don’t you think that’s brave? You’re so much more than what this curse wants you to believe you are, Mylène.”

Ladybug holds her hand up and her magic pours out of her, the mirror she’d summoned shining brightly in the darkness. She presents it to Mylène with a soft smile. 

“I think your true self can be whoever you wish you could be, so long as you’re willing to try.”

Mylène, who’d closed her eyes when the mirror had been summoned, opened them slowly. Staring back at her from the mirror was her normal self, smiling shyly. 

“But I think your regular self isn’t as bad as you made it out to be,” Ladybug concluded. “Cursed or not.”

Mylène smiled back at herself. Somewhere behind her, a rose wilted.

\-----

Ladybug hadn’t needed to run out of there quite so fast; she still had quite a bit of magic left in her, having not needed to use it to break the curse. She felt elated in her victory, and had wanted to stay to speak with Mylène a bit, tell her more about how she felt, but she’d noticed Chat escaping the bag and running off and followed him reflexively.

He was nowhere she could see, and the police was doing a search of the school. Marinette’s mother was sure to tell her the good news about the curse being broken soon enough. Ladybug’s time outside had run out. 

She couldn’t help but wonder why Chat Noir had scampered away so fast. He hadn’t needed to use his magic at all, so why…?

She wished she could’ve talked to him.

\-----

Marinette turns back into herself in her room just in time for her mother to give her the great news that not only is her school free of the curse, there’s still enough time for them to do a half day of classes!

Marinette resists the urge to groan in exhaustion as she forces a grin on her face.

\-----

Because Marinette didn’t learn her lesson with being so critically late today, she finds herself walking alone on the streets of Paris in the middle of the night. 

To be fair, it isn’t entirely her fault. After school, she’d gone over to Alya’s to hear all about the curse she had “missed”, and the two girls hadn’t seen the time pass as they talked about Ladybug, curses, fairy tales, the ball and boys (read: Adrien) until Marinette’s parents had called to tell her it was getting late. She declines Alya’s offer to ask her dad for a ride or to at least get him to accompany her-- Alya doesn’t live that far away and, not that her friend knows this, of course, but Marinette has an arsenal of magic at her disposal. Having a fairy godmother based off of good luck has its advantages. 

Still, that’s why she’s out walking alone in the night. The better question, one she asks herself, catching a glimpse of his silhouette jumping roof to roof not too far from her, is why _Chat Noir_ is out roaming alone. She pauses her walk and, without considering the consequences, whistles loudly to catch his attention. 

He stops abruptly, freezing in place, and Marinette is suddenly very thankful he didn’t fall off a roof and die because of her own stupidity. Oops. She waves him over anyway, since she figures it’s too late to back out now. He hesitates for a moment before he climbs down in a few precisely timed jumps that make Marinette anxious. She smiles blandly and doesn’t let it show on her face, though; the public has no idea that Ladybug and Chat Noir can be injured just like regular humans. Being magic doesn’t give them any real protection.

(That hadn’t been in any fairy tale she’d heard of previously. It had just been Ladybug and Chat Noir and a cursed soul more dangerous than most. Chat had taken the hit for her and she’d taken his sword to finish the fight. Ladybug learned that day that sewing skin was luckily only slightly harder than it was fabric. Her magic woven into his skin kept Chat from scarring, or so he told her, but still, that day had been… difficult.)

Marinette shakes off the memory just as Chat stops, still a ways away from her, right outside the circle of light from the lamppost she’d inadvertently stopped under. She felt a confused pout form on her face but didn’t question him right away.

“What’s a beautiful maiden like you doing outside at such an hour?” Chat Noir asks in lieu of greeting her, and Marinette has to hide a snort under her hand. He doesn’t interact with non-magic’d people much outside of curse victims, and she’s glad about it now, if this is what he comes up with. 

“That’s what I was about to ask you,” she responds after a beat. “What are you doing roaming the night? There can’t be another curse already?”

It’s hard to tell only from his silhouette in the dark, but he shakes his head quickly. 

“No, nothing quite so drastic,” he tells her. He hesitates for a second before adding: “I was hoping to run into my Lady, to tell you the truth.”

She hadn’t expected to get an answer out of him so quickly, and it takes Marinette by surprise in more ways than one. Why would he be out there looking for her? Since their magic exhausts itself the more its used, they’re both usually careful about not using it unnecessarily. Ladybug and Chat Noir don’t exist outside of responding to curses as far as everyone is concerned. 

(Ladybug and Chat Noir sometimes stay around longer, with each other, outside of stories, but that’s really no one’s business if they hide away and talk for a few hours from time to time.)

“Your Lady…?” Marinette makes a show of looking puzzled. “Why? I would’ve thought you’d seen far more than enough of her today. I wasn’t there, but Alya told me all about the curse at the school. She said you made quite the adorable kitten, by the way.”

That last bit isn’t a lie, though the way Marinette says it, sly and slow, is a bit too close to Ladybug for a second. She’s never interacted with Chat outside of her role, and she looks down with a nervous giggle to try to cover it up. What is wrong with her? Chat Noir is Ladybug’s, not hers. She has-- or, well, she _wants_ \--Adrien. She can’t be calling him over and teasing him like this.

Chat Noir makes a strange sound from the darkness.

“I hope she isn’t writing about that one on her blog,” he mutters to himself, and Marinette has to hide a smile. He addresses her next, louder: “I just… wanted to talk to her. About something she said.”

What she’d said? The look of confusion must show on her face because her partner’s silhouette gives a shrug.

“It’s… not important. I guess I just felt compelled to tell her how amazing she is. And… to thank her,” he adds, soft and warm and--

“I was just heading home,” Marinette hears herself blurt out in a panic. “I’d feel much safer if you walked me, though.”

What is she even saying? Her brain isn’t working right. Her heart beats too fast in her chest and she tries not to think about how hearing Chat talk about her like that, even if for one moment, made her feel. 

(Like Adrien, soft and kind, lightly brushing her palm with the tips of his fingertips--)

Chat Noir takes a hesitant step backwards further into the darkness and Marinette blinks, snapping out of it. 

“Chat Noir… why don’t you want to come into the light?” Marinette asks. 

She doesn’t need to see his face to imagine the sardonic smile that comes with his answer. “I… I don’t want to scare you.”

It takes a lot for Marinette to hold back on her indignation at that, so she takes a step forward only for him to do so, too, skipping backwards. She crosses her arms. “Why would you scare me? I’m the one who called you over.”

“And an odd thing it was for you to do, my dear,” Chat Noir teases, but she remains unflinching until he sighs, raising a hand to scratch behind his head. “To tell you the truth, while I am quite the dashing hero, up close, my appearance isn’t exactly… comfortable to look at,” Chat Noir settles on, awkward and hesitating still. 

She lets her indignation slip at that. “Who told you that?” She asks, bristling at the thought of anyone telling Chat Noir he was-- what? Unpretty? Monstrous? Not _normal_? 

“The mirror, I’d say,” Chat Noir answers, deadpan. 

“Then it can’t have been a very nice mirror, could it?” Marinette counters without missing a beat. “Chat Noir, you’re being ridiculous. Step into the light. Let me see you, and I’ll decide for myself if you’re uncomfortable to look at.” 

Chat breathes in, loudly, before exhaling out a laugh. “... Alright. As you wish.”

He steps into the light.

The truth is, as herself, without her own magic to flair and feel out for his own, to react and cause emotions in her so steep she’d thought herself enchanted the first time they’d met-- as just Marinette, without the immediate draw to him, she can almost see why he’d say such a thing about himself. Half of his face is covered in sleek black fur that, if seen from far away enough, can pass for a mask not unlike her own. Up close, there’s no denying the sheen of it. His fangs poke out of his mouth, pointed and dangerous, and she knows all his teeth are just as sharp. His hands, curled in on themselves, with their long claws. Not to mention the black ears and the tail poking out of his clothing.

And his eyes…

His eyes, green, cat-like, stare at her with unbridled wariness.

Marinette takes a step closer, raising a hand to his face. He nearly flinches away but restrains himself just as she rests touches the side of his face, brushing her fingers lightly over both fur and skin. She smiles.

“I think your mirror needs an upgrade,” she tells him. “I don’t see a monster at all. Only a very pretty kitty.”

Chat Noir’s eyes widen and, though as usual it’s hard to tell properly under the fur, she’s can see he’s blushing a pretty pink by the skin right below it. There’s an odd look of wonder in his eyes and she laughs it off.

“Take me home?”

He takes a step away from her, then bows down with a flourish, taking her hand and raising it to his lips to give it a light kiss. 

“What kind of knight would I be if I didn’t acquiesce to a princess’s request?” He mumbles against her hand, staring up at her through his fringe.

Marinette does not consider herself a lucky person. 

That’s why it absolutely doesn’t surprise her when her heart skips a beat.

(Ladybug loves Chat. Marinette loves Adrien. It is only supposed to be as simple, and as complicated, as that.

Of course Marinette would find a way to screw that up.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops my bad on this taking so long. i rewrote the draft for it a few times and then pokemon came out. rip, me. anyway, real notes!!!
> 
> me: i dont want to post too many french stuff i am not a ouiaboo  
> also me: [adds in 500 lyrics in french for nino because i think im funny]  
> official translation of stuff ... ugh ok in order of appearance: "mais aux pages du temps mon coeur s'eveille en secret" means "but through the pages of time my heart awakens in secret", its a lyric from the french b&tb. because of course. i lost the notes on nino's song references but whatever its obscure french shit. "je fais de mon mieux" means "im trying my best", un monstre a paris is "a monster in paris", and the "gueule de chat" thing means "here you come with a cat's face, walking around on roofs", basically. im playing a little fast & loose on the last one but its just a cat joke, okay. it's. it's not that deep. "la bete" means "the beast" and there was literally no reason for that to be in french except i have no beta and no one to tell me no. please help me.
> 
> also ladybug didnt notice and i think i made it obvious enough but jic adrien was absolutely not transformed while he was a kitten. the logical reason for that is that something similar would've happened to marinette if she'd been there: their magic protects them from curses to a certain amount, so instead of being fully affected even if they are in zone 0 of the curse they only change somewhat. marinette, in this scenario, would've been a fairy. she could've then transformed into the same ladybug we saw. normally this would also be true of kittendrien, except he... still can't talk. oops. #adrienslifeissohard
> 
> i love mylene a lot... but it's hard to love yourself or let yourself love others when you're scared of shit, i think. which is a direct parallel to adrien and marinette's shtick in this lmao im subtle. also "but where was ivan". ivan was busy hiding somewhere because he ended up in belle's role and, while he is rocking that dress, he is not ready to live this life.
> 
> finally, papillon doesnt get to be in this chapter because i liked the ending as it was oops lmao
> 
> tldr hope you enjoyed, thanks for the kudos & comments y'all are angels, & i probably wont have the next one done before christmas because i have a laundry list of things to do but miracles can happen so who knows
> 
> please save adrien and marinette from themselves
> 
> ps: i cant believe i marichat'd. shit. i mean i guess i technically ladrien'd first but sHIT


End file.
